A Strange Duet
by prettyinpinkgal
Summary: Now available for preorder on Amazon! Enjoy this sneak peek at the sequel to CACOPHONOUS MELODY. Christine, now a college graduate, sees Erik again on the streets of Venice.
1. Chapter 1

**I am so excited to present to you an EXCLUSIVE sneak peek at the novella sequel to _Cacophonous Melody_! If you haven't read CM yet, check it out on Amazon and grab a copy (and if you like it, please leave a review there). _A Strange Duet _serves as a bit of an extended epilogue, if you will, answering the question, "Do Christine and Erik ever meet again?" So if you haven't read CM yet-SPOILERS AHEAD!**

**Please keep in mind that the following excerpt has yet to be fully proofread, but I just couldn't wait to share it with the first people who encouraged my writing with _Cacophonous Melody - _you guys! If you like it, you can preorder the Kindle ebook on Amazon. Want a physical copy? No worries! The paperback will be available around August 2, when the ebook goes live. I might post another sneak peek here when that happens.**

**While I'm shamelessly self-promoting anyway, you can go to alyssabcole dot com and sign up for my newsletter for exclusive updates on my other upcoming releases. You can also stalk me on Facebook by searching AuthorAlyssaBCole OR on Twitter AlyssaBCole. :)**

**Thanks, everyone. Without all of your encouragement on the first story, I never would have been gutsy enough to attempt to launch a career again in indie publishing. So thank you. :)**

**Without further ado, enjoy this snippet of _A Strange Duet_!**

**A STRANGE DUET**

Venice erupted from a sleepy winter with showmanship and energy that poured from every crack in the damp city. Figures, masked and dazzling, filled the streets. All its inhabitants celebrated, overcome with alcohol and a feverish desire to take to heart Shakespeare's comment that all the world's a stage.

All celebrated except a blonde woman, who sat at a café petulantly, typing away at her phone.

**You seriously ditched me?** she wrote.

**Sorry!** came the reply. **But dude. ITALIAN GUY.**

**You're the worst.**

**I can't help it. Imma climb him like a TREE.**

The young woman pursed her lips and wrote back, **I hope you know I'm never taking you on a trip again. EVER.**

**Don't be jelly.**

**No one says that anymore.**

**Besides, Sydney brought me along, not you.**

**You wouldn't even know Sydney if it weren't for me.**

**Go have fun w/ her.**

**She ditched me too. Her dad and stepmom made her go out with them.**

**Oh. U want me to come back?**

**She hesitated for a while, then wrote, Nah. See you tomorrow.**

** 3 u**

Some habits were hard to break. Keeping her thoughts and feelings bottled up was one of them. She'd gotten better over the past couple of years, but it still was a struggle. So she kept silent on the discomfort that plagued her.

It was the masks, really, that unsettled her. Crowds she was used to, having spent much her formative teenage years in New York City, and she'd lived alone in Rome last year as part of a music program she'd been accepted into. But she'd never been to Venice, and its ancient beauty became haunting with Carnevale coloring the city. As nighttime crested over the sky, the weirdness of the decorative masks awoke an old wariness within her.

She wasn't afraid, per se. It had been a long time since she'd been afraid - truly afraid. But they made her remember things that were best left forgotten.

With a sigh, she got up and pushed in her chair, having paid some time ago. A brisk breeze knotted through her hair and chilled her ears, making her pull her beanie further over her ears before starting to walk.

The masks, plastic and false, some simple, some elaborate, surrounded her. It felt...disrespectful, almost - these people wearing masks without a care while some were condemned to one. It bothered her. But most were bizarre designs that were unfamiliar to her, that brought no immediate memories.

Except one.

She'd long ago learned to be wary in public, never knowing what intentions people held. A pleasant man could be a kidnapper, a stalker. She was more wary now than ever before, feeling uneasy in a city she didn't know, surrounded by strangers in disguise. So it was easy for her to see this man as he approached, the porcelain of the mask sculpted perfectly to just reveal his mouth. Dark hair was smoothly combed above it, piercing eyes held within, and a tall stature below. He wore a rather archaic suit that would stand out had it not been a day of festivities and dressing up in archaic costumes.

The thing was - she knew this man. She'd know him anywhere.

She froze, blocking his path. He hadn't seen her yet, looking just beyond into the rest of the crowd. He made a turn, approaching the canal and surveying the sight. She stared after him, stumbling away only when someone said "_Permisso_" after they nearly walked into her.

In the streets of Venice, Christine Daaé met the Phantom of New York once more.

Christine stumbled back to the café table she'd just vacated, which led to an irritated grumble by some tourists who were about to claim it for themselves.

He was here. Erik was here.

She hadn't seen him since that last evening, the evening of the kiss. She'd talked to him on the phone, breaking things off with him, and she'd never seen him again. Part of her had always regretted it, doing things that way. It was unkind. But at the time, as a girl just experiencing what it was like to be young and free, it was the right thing to do.

Still, the break in his voice had always haunted her.

Now there he was, just a few yards away. Part of her wanted to run, the part that remembered all too well the unhealthy dynamic between them, what he'd done. Part of her, too, wanted to run to him. Because that part remembered how he'd held her, how gentle he could be and how she could depend on him, how his lips felt on hers.

But - and this sent her out of her nostalgia with the same force as a bucket of ice dumped on her - why was he here? She was here in Venice for only a few days, and somehow - some way - here he was, standing before her?

It was too unlikely.

He was back to his old habits.

She zipped her jacket higher, wincing. Her head was a mess. Her heart was a mess. She needed to leave. It was always the best thing to do when Erik was involved. Today wasn't any different.

But then, why hadn't he given any indication of seeing her?

She stared warily at him, as if his back could give any hint to his intentions. It was too obvious of him, if he just showed up nearby if he'd known she was there. It was very much like when she'd stumbled upon him at Aldi a few years ago.

Was this really a coincidence?

She watched him shuffle away from some encroaching masked individuals, some girls who were screaming in German as they playfully pretended to push each other into the canal. It was surreal, seeing only his back and being able to tell that he was uncomfortable, yet he seemed so much more...stable than before. Perhaps it was the suit. It made him seem a bit thicker than she remembered, filled out. He used to be so skinny.

Christine squinted at him more. It was more than just his physical shape. It was his reactions to everything. His shoulders weren't as hunched as they used to be when they were in public. Before, he'd have stayed in less populated places. Surely he had a hotel room he could stay in on such a populated day. But perhaps he had business to attend to. But dressed like that?

It disturbed her, how much she could remember him, even after all this time. It disturbed her all the more that he could captivate her so much.

_Oh God,_ she thought. _Stop staring, you creep._

Christine managed to avert her eyes as he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone, stepping away from the canal and turning a little toward her. Only a few feet away. She could wave, and he could see her, and -

She buried her head in her hands, taking deep breaths.

When she looked up again, he was even closer. She tensed instinctively, though she knew he wouldn't hurt her. Despite the old memories, the newer ones felt truer. He wouldn't hurt her, never again. Especially now, seeing him handle himself so well in the stresses of a busy day of Carnevale. And especially given the fact that he was talking on the phone to someone. Who? He had no friends, from what she recalled. Perhaps it was a client of his? He used to do web design.

She wondered if it was possible he'd made a friend.

She wondered if it was possible he had a girlfriend.

Ignoring the traitorous little tension in her chest, a group of people began leaving the area, traveling further down the street and allowing her to hear a bit of his conversation. It was in a language she didn't know, but it flowed off his tongue perfectly. Hearing his voice - it made her a little lightheaded. But it wasn't the soothing caress it often was around her. It was clipped, sometimes drawling a bit. Then, he slipped into English.

"Nadir, if you second-guess yourself one more time, I am going to make it so you can never propose to her at all. Understood?"

She blinked. Yeaaah, that wasn't a client.

"I know. You are very lucky I'm - "

It wasn't a climactic moment by any means. It wasn't that the world became silent or time froze or any nonsense she'd expect in movies. It took her a moment, actually, to realize he was looking back at her. And it took her a moment to realize he'd stopped talking, clearly recognizing her.

It took her a moment to realize she had no clue how to react.

Swallowing hard, she managed a small, sheepish wave.

He kept staring, but he wasn't doing anything, just standing there with his phone against his ear and she was just sitting there like an idiot and she hated awkward silences and she didn't know what to do and -

She got out her phone and opened some random apps, just to seem busy. Because she was apparently more awkward than him, now.

Getting a little of her wits back, Christine opened a message to send to both Sydney and Meg, typing, **SOS I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO . Not in danger, just fyi, but omggg.**

She didn't hear him bid adieu to his friend, because another riotous group walked by at just that moment. There must have been an event happening somewhere, because there were fewer people just loitering in their area now. Regardless, he must have hung up, because when she glanced up from her phone, she saw his tall body looming over her. She'd be almost afraid - she was startled - if it wasn't for the fact that Erik seemed as bewildered as her.

He murmured something, but with the laughing and chatter she couldn't hear him.

"Sorry, what?" she half-shouted. It was a good thing she'd practiced projection so much for her schooling.

His mouth opened and closed a few times. She couldn't tell if he was actually making words or not. Then, a look of utter panic crossed his face.

"I assure you, I did not know you'd be here," Erik hastened to say, his voice clear and deep. "I didn't - I would never - "

"It's okay," Christine said, and as the words reached him, they reached her mind as well. It really was okay. She didn't feel frightened or unsettled like she thought she would. He was deceitful, but he wasn't an actor. She could tell he was honestly ruffled and perplexed.

"I'm here for an engagement," he continued in a rush. "Well, possibly." He seemed to realize he was babbling, and he quickly snapped his mouth shut. Then: "I should go. I apologize for bothering you."

Guilt trickled through her. "No, no! It's okay, Erik, really. I can tell it was just a coincidence. A weird one, but it seems like half the world has showed up for Carnevale anyway. Um, you wanna sit?"

His gaze grew deeper, almost skeptical. "Are you certain?"

"Of course." But then doubt crept in. "Unless you'd rather not because - I mean, unless you'd rather not."

He surveyed her. "No," he murmured. "I'd like to stay, as long as you're comfortable."

"I am."

His gaze finally left hers and turned more skeptical, staring at her hands. She looked at them and realized they were fiddling around with her phone. She quickly set it down flat on the table, folding her hands sturdily upon it.

Their eyes met again, and she grinned sheepishly.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

A few years ago, she'd ended things between them. But the Erik before her wasn't quite the Erik she remembered.

"I'm sure," she said.


	2. Get an ARC!

**Get an ARC!**

With the release of _A Strange Duet_ less than a month away, I am giving away ARCs, or Advance Reader Copies. If you'd like to read and then review the novella upon its release, you can go to booksprout DOT co/ arc/ 16701/ a-strange-duet (without the spaces, of course). Keep in mind that there are limited ARCs available, so claim yours soon. Thanks guys! :)


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